


Crash into Riverside

by Lance_Manly_Sorcerer_Of_Sin



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Creampie, F/M, Patron, Sex Magic, Tieflings, Warlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lance_Manly_Sorcerer_Of_Sin/pseuds/Lance_Manly_Sorcerer_Of_Sin
Summary: Crash was born a tiefling to a pair of gnomish parents, and that wasn't even the strangest thing that happened to her before she left her home town.  In a moonlit grove in the forest outside her village, the young girl found herself in the embrace of a beautiful fey named Sir Everheart.  A week-long secret tryst later, Crash had formed a pact with the fey lord and set out to adventure to make a name for herself.  Little did she know, the Fey's thirst for her wouldn't stop just because she'd left his court.As Crash journeys to the melting pot city of Riverside, several weeks of road behind her, she quickly books a room and shares a lovely, desperate moment with her patron for the first time in too long.  Having a magical sword comes with many benefits, not all of them combat-worthy.
Kudos: 8





	Crash into Riverside

An overcast sky gave the gift of snow today, sending it gently down upon the rough hills of the trade roads. It joined the dried brown grass and settled in along the ditches, covered the wagons and delighted the children. And, much to the chagrin of a hurried traveler, packed itself onto the road. The bright gray skies shone down as if asking approval for this gift.

It was rebuked immediately.

“Isn’t this road bad enough?” cracked a woman’s voice, made haggard by rushed travel. A green-skinned hand reached up and brushed a stray black hair from her tired eyes, which were focused on the clouds as though they could hear her. She tucked a few locks of hair back behind the horns curling out from her forehead, not watching where she was going. A hiss of pain escaped her lips as she stepped upon a sharp stone, which glanced out from under her hoof and into the ditch. She kicked at the ground as though it were still there and, shooting one last glare at the clouds as though it were their fault, continued her hurried pace.

Soon, however, the goal of her travel was in sight; A town sprawling out of the nearby forest, hills, and river to collect along the road. The tiefling smiled and gave an exasperated sigh as she put hooves to the ground and made her way to Riverside.

Rather than walls or gates, a series of wooden watchtowers rose up every few hundred feet around the town. Denizens knew this was because they expanded and subtracted constantly, always adding new buildings and tearing down others several times a year, making a sturdy wall more work than it was worth. The traveler thought it an interesting quirk, as well as a welcome sight; towns with walls and gates were more likely to turn her away, after all, given her infernal heritage. Despite this, anxiety began to build up in her chest as she approached one of the watchtowers which sat along the trade road she was following.

To her surprise a pair of kashari, a cat-like human folk, stood beneath it. Dressed in leather-and-fur armor emblazoned with the symbol of Riverside, a young man and middle-aged woman leaned against the thick wooden poles of the watchtower, waving travelers inside as they arrived. The woman’s dirty blond hair cropped up around a pair of long white rabbit ears which stood proudly atop her head, and though the young man wore a leather skullcap that hid his ears, a long cat-like tail covered in orange fur poked out of a hole in the back of his armor. The tiefling raised her eyebrows a bit, surprised to see kashari in such a trusted position as town guards. A possible good sign, she thought.

As the pair finished waving in a small group of gear-laden merchants, they turned to see their newest traveler with smiles on their faces.

“Welcome to Riverside, stranger,” the woman spoke, her voice thick with a southern accent that was typical to the area. Just another thing that made the tiefling stick out, she thought.

“Stranger indeed,” the green-skinned traveler replied, “and very tired. It’s been a long trek on the road, do you two know where a girl might find a good place to rest?”

The young man jerked his thumb down the main road past the watchtower as he looked the traveler up and down. She noticed, and so did the other Kashari, that his eyes lingered on her bright green cheeks.

“Right down the road by the weeping willow is the Breezy Fields, hot food and comfy beds. Name?”

The tiefling cracked a nervous smile; this was the ‘fun’ part of meeting new people.

“Just call me Crash.”

“Full name, please,” the man insisted, “for city records.”

She hesitated slightly, biting back a sigh.

“Mistletoe Petalbloom Rosewood Digglebee Lavender Crash.”

There were a few seconds of silence as the three stared at each other. Amidst the awkward pause, the tiefling cleared her throat.

“Just… call me Crash, please.”

Chuckling, the middle-aged blonde waved Crash inside. The tension melted away as the tiefling walked past, exchanging a quick goodbye with the two kashari. The streets were busy with people of all shapes and sizes bustling about, and Crash found herself no longer the center of attention. Merchants, craftsmen, townsfolk and adventurers alike crossed paths along the cobblestone street as snow fell upon the small rooftops of nearby houses and businesses. Kashari, drow, and even other tieflings speckled the streets alongside the predominantly human population, and Crash found herself picking up on quite a few languages being shouted by the hawkers and laborers as she walked.

As she stepped down the road, Crash’s eyes set upon the sight of a large weeping willow on the side of the street. Its massive hanging branches shrouded a small open area in shade, keeping the dried grass there mostly clear of snow and melt. A small iron-wrought gate encircled the area, more decoration than security as the tiefling could see a number of people milling about and peddling homemade wares. Following the small path with her eyes, she saw a warm-looking building two stories tall at the back of the area, citizens bustling in and out beneath a sign that read:

Breezy Fields

With a tired smile, the young tiefling made her way past an open gate and down the path, waving hello to a pair of children walking past with wooden platters of some strange local snack. The sound of music and smell of food tantalized the woman as she slipped past a small group of chattering folks who saw fit to conduct their conversation barely a few feet from the tavern’s front door. Crash’s eyes quickly adjusted to the lower light as she stepped inside, and what greeted her drew a smile.

A wide-open room stretched out around a large center stage, where a pair of halflings were kicking up a lively jig. Around it, a slew of tables hosted at least two dozen patrons, stuffing the tavern half-full of singing and revelry.

“Really,” Crash mused to herself with a smirk, “in the middle of the day?”

The tiefling couldn’t help but hum along to the music as she meandered between a half-dozen tables to get to the bar, where a peppy half-elf with red hair falling around her pointed ears in curls was busy pouring flagons. The two young women caught each other’s eyes and smiled, with the barkeep springing first.

“Howdy and welcome to the breezy fields, it’ll just be a sec, hun.”

Crash nodded and slid up to the bar, but an antsy energy in her legs kept her from sitting. She had a meeting to get to, after all, and it was making her all kinds of anxious. The redheaded barkeep slammed a couple of flagons down in front of a handsome man with dark bronze skin, and the two exchanged a flirty smile before parting ways. The lass made her way back to Crash.

“Hi there hun, name’s Lonny Springfield but you can just call me Lonny. What’ll it be?”

Crash opened her mouth to speak, but as she watched the half-elf lean down onto her elbows as they talked, her eyes couldn’t help but slip down the frilly white camisole to the deep, deep cut of her shirt and the absolute feast of titty that was threatening to spill out. Soft, round, freckled cleavage rested on Lonny’s arms as she leaned forward, her breasts full and thick and daring Crash to say something. The tiefling’s voice caught in her throat a bit as her heart skipped a beat and she stopped, cleared her throat, and let out a gentle, anxious chuckle.

“As much as I’d like to spend some time at the bar,” she began, her voice gently tinged with laughter, “I’m afraid I’ve an appointment to make. I’ll need a room, please. A private one.”

The barkeep grinned and outstretched a hand.

“Sure, that’s 8 silver for the night. A day’s meal is 5 silver, which covers breakfast and dinner. We’re having fish filet and mashed tatos tonight,” she added with a tease. Crash tittered with quiet laughter and reached into her coinpurse, pulling out two gold coins and slipping them into the woman’s hand, trailing two digits along her fingertips for good effect.

“I’ll take both, and please keep the extra,” she smiled. Lonny’s eyelids fell heavy with suggestion and she rumbled with pleased laughter. The barkeep took the coins in one hand, snaking it under the counter to drop them noisily one-by-one into a coffer, while the other reached up and tugged at the deep collar of her camisole. Eyes firmly on Crash, Lonny let her breasts pop free of the clothing for a moment, during which they spilled out onto the well-polished counter for the tiefling’s eyes to feast upon. And they did, the adventurer’s cheeks tinting a deep green as she bit her lip, glancing between the beautiful woman and her beautiful breasts. Her other hand, now free, slipped a small brass key into the tiefling’s hand, trailing two digits along her fingertips for good effect.

“We appreciate good tips here. Enjoy the stay, sweetheart,” Lonny purred, and Crash almost felt frozen to her spot. It was with pain that she wrenched herself away from the flirt, calling back in agreement as she rushed up to her room. A stray patron in the hallway might have mistaken her for a green blur, so quick was she inside.

The door shut with a rumble that shook the armoire as the tiefling hurried inside and immediately locked it behind her. She turned on her heel- or whatever counts for a heel on a hoof- and shrugged her backpack to the floor with a thud before hooking her fingers beneath the hem of her shirt. In one smooth, practiced motion, the tiefling peeled her top, bra, and cloak off all at once and slung them into a heap in the corner, letting her petite breasts spring free to breathe in the open air like the gods intended. She took careful, measured steps over to the bed as nimble hands unbuckled her belt, untied her sash, and slid her pants around her ankles so she could step out of them a moment later, naked of everything but her leggings and sword.

Crash breathed a heavy sigh of both relief and tension, lifting the sheathed sword to gaze upon its length. It was beautiful, slender, and straight; a court sword, made for fencing and finesse. Its sheath, varnished and uncolored rosewood, looked plain from afar but a trained eye would notice the excellent craft. The handle was wrapped in treated blue cloth, gentle to hold but providing a firm grip, and was resistant to rough conditions like bad weather and harsh movement. The lack of a knuckle guard made flashier movements easy, and the figure-eight guard kept her hands safe as she fought. The pommel was the same fine, varnished rosewood as the sheath, rounded until soft. All in all, it was a fine weapon both for status and for battle.

But for now, she was going to use it for a vastly different purpose.

The tiefling knelt down by her new bed and lifted the mattress, sliding the sheathed sword point-first beneath it. She set the mattress back down so that only the sword’s hilt was sticking out. Reaching over and grabbing her backpack, she tossed the heavy thing up onto the bed for extra support. Her long, toned legs gently lowered her to the ground as she got on all fours in front of the bed, reaching back between her legs with one hand while the other braced her against the floor.

An excited moan slipped free from Crash’s lips as her long fingers snuck between her thighs and grazed the wet heat of her sex, dragging along the soft lips of her pussy. Beginning at the entrance and grazing down towards her clit, the pleasure started out warm and quickly grew electric, sending a shiver up her spine and causing a grin to spread across her lips as she bit them in a mixture of frustration and relief. The tiefling slowly lowered her head to rest on her arm as her other hand continued gently massaging along the sore, needy length of her pussy.

“Gods,” she hissed, her voice still raspy from the long road, “you’ve been insufferable these last few days.” As the young woman groaned, her digits continued playing along the sensitive skin of her entrance. Warm pleasure tingled along her inner thighs and core, a hesitant promise of bliss to come, as her thoughts slowly became cloudy and then clear again. She could hear his voice on the wind, feel the whisper of a kiss against the back of her neck. A glimpse of his face in her thoughts, and she smiled despite herself.

“Needy bastard,” she teased.

Her fingers slid back up to the lust-slick entrance of her sex, and she drew in a sharp breath. With a moan muffled through bit lips, the middle digit sank inside, achingly slowly. She was rushed to be sure, and her whole body wanted it; her hips rocking back against the air and her tail curling up to expose herself were proof enough of that. But still, she knew where impatience would lead, and she enjoyed teasing him just as much. As soon as she was used to the presence of her own finger again, her index joined, and the warm pleasure began to spread out into her hips and stomach.

It was a dull, thudding kind of pleasure, like an ache that you crave. The feeling of fingers inside of her just made her want more, and after such a long trip along crowded roads with very little time to herself, Crash was eager to dive head-first into pure ecstasy. Again however, she steeled herself, and gently coaxed more pleasure from her own pussy as it grew used to the size. With a few more practiced curls and thrusts, her fingers reached as deep as they could go, teasing that oh-so pleasurable spot on the way in just for good measure.

Finally, and wanting it so badly that she licked her lips, Crash raised her ass up into the air and leaned back along her toned, silky legs. Her fingers slipped free just in time for her to feel a firm, rounded object pressing against the entrance. The pommel of her sword felt blocky and indelicate compared to her fingers, but as Crash shut her eyes and smiled, she knew it wouldn’t for long.

As she sank back along the length of the pommel, she felt it fill her with a surprising warmth. The surface was hot and eager, twitching inside of her like a cock, and it sent a shiver through her body that forced a sharp moan from her lips. The moan trailed off as she stopped, the handle only a few inches inside of her, as the sensations became uncomfortably tight. Slowly drawing back, she felt her own juices coat the surface of the thing, making it easier on the second attempt. That same feeling of fullness and warmth spread through her again, and she moaned again as she finally felt the guard press against her beautiful pussy.

Eyes shut tight and mind drifting away, the tiefling felt warm arms enclosing her from behind. Without warning, the figure bucked, and she felt his cock drive deep inside of her with such a lovely force that it fucked a moan out of her. It came from deep in her chest, as did the intense pleasure that suddenly spiked as whatever was inside her now was considerably longer and slenderer than the hilt of her sword. Held there tightly and intently, she felt a warm breath upon her horns.

“I’ve been craving you, darling.”

The warm voice of her patron, Sir Everheart, caused her pointed ears to flicker despite the fact it came from within her mind. She could feel the beautiful fey’s hands on her hips, a firm grasp holding her still while he grinded up against her. His long, exotic cock twitched and jumped inside of her, so sensitive and excited was it, and he steadily rolled his hips against her ass while keeping it deep inside. Crash curled her fingers up against the soft silks of his bed, breathed in the scent of his body and the incense burning upon the mantle over the fireplace.

As she exhaled, she felt for a moment the real world again; her knees upon the hardwood floor, the warm air of the tavern on her skin, the lovely feeling of fullness being provided by the hilt inside of her. The strange, dream-like psychic connection to her patron manifested in the most peculiar ways, but for a tiefling who made her pact during a moonlit tryst in the forest, it was hardly the oddest thing she’d done since leaving home.  
And gods did it feel good.

Helped along by her patron’s hands, Crash began to rock her hips back against the handle. Each time, the guard pressed against her sensitive pussy, its textured surface stimulating her exposed clit. With every other thrust or so, the bed would shift subtly, and the tiny noises it made in protest against the floor weren’t enough to convince her to slow down. Within moments, the tiefling- drunk off the sensations of being filled over and over again- was throwing her firm butt back against the mattress with reckless speed.

Moans, trembling and raspy, spilled from her mouth with little regard to nosey strangers or sleeping neighbors. Crash’s tail curled up tight and relaxed, then repeated again, as the powerful sensations of bliss rocked through her body in wave after wave. It was a harsh, quickly-building kind of pleasure that threatened to boil over any moment. Almost like leaks springing in a pipe, every few seconds her rapidly climbing ecstasy would be washed over with a deep, warm pleasure that abated the peak for another moment. Like little crackles of electricity before the lightning, bliss shook through her until her legs were quaking.

Sweat ran down the tiefling’s brow as her patron thrust into her again and again, his ample cock filling her out nice and deep. She could feel his balls, full of the cum she wanted so badly, brushing against her clit with every rock of his hips. And she, too, dug in deep; her hooves were braced against the ground along with both hands as she pushed back harder and harder against him. His form was slender, but he dominated her in height, looming over her like a slinky giant as he whispered filthy urges into her pointed ears.

Crash felt his hands leave her hips and, for a moment, was worried he might have slowed his pace. The worries abated as, with a gasp of surprise, she felt a hand each grip her horns tightly, holding onto them for leverage. As her lord began to fuck her deep and hard and hungrily, each thrust knocked the breath from her chest in the form of a desperate cry of ecstasy.

The tiefling’s voice echoed off the walls of the room around her as she came, her legs trembling and thighs clamping tightly together. She could feel her pussy squeeze desperately onto the lust-slick handle of her sword, staining the beautiful wrap and well-polished wood with her cum. She dug her claws into the floor and held on for dear life, unable to stop bucking her hips back against the needy thing, tail lashing tightly around one of her legs. Inside, a pulsing warmth filled her as thick ropes of cum spilled out into her pussy, her patron’s parting fit flooding her with blissful heat. Every inch of her body was wracked with pleasure that hit her like rolling thunder.

And, like thunder, it ebbed gently away. Over the next few minutes, Crash fell forward onto her stomach, leaving behind silky strands of pearly-white girl cum clinging to the handle of her sword. She recovered, caught her breath, and sat up with her back against the bed to glance sidelong at the shiny pommel of the sword sticking out from under the mattress. Shutting her eyes, the forest-green tiefling reached down and gingerly touched two fingertips to her pussy. It was still sensitive, a quick spark of bliss and tension that made her wince in a good way. As she pushed her fingers inside, she could feel something creamy, warm, and thick spill out of her and down onto the floor.

A sleepy grin spread across her lips.

“Good to see you again too,” she mumbled.

The tiefling grunted as she stood, then stretched high into the air. Her fingers almost touched the ceiling; she was a bit tall, standing almost six feet, but her elegant and dexterous frame wore it very well. It was certainly strange for the child of two gnomes to stand almost twice as tall as her parents, but they had always been more worried about her horns and tail than her height.

Crash leaned down and grasped the slick, shiny handle of her sword and pulled the whole thing free from the mattress, fetching a cloth from her backpack. She sat down, still nude except her leggings and still dripping her patron’s warm cum, and began dutifully cleaning off the weapon and herself. Once her hilt was clean and her pussy was empty, the tiefling began to gather her belongings and distribute them to the places they actually belonged: Her cloak to the rack, her backpack to the bedside, her journal to the writing desk (what a fancy room she noticed, now that she had a chance to appreciate it!), her clothes to her body, and her sword to her hip.

Taking one last look in the mirror to make sure her hair wasn’t too frazzled, the tiefling stepped out and locked the door behind her to go and get some food.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me requests on Curious Cat and check me out on Twitter for updates and porn!   
> https://curiouscat.me/TheLanceManly https://twitter.com/TheLanceManly


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